Illicit Love

Gabriella lethargically strolled off the plane at 7:00 Monday morning. Lucky for her, she had slept some more on the plane, so she wasn't feeling too exhausted. She would be fine once she found Chris, who always picked her up with her favorite espresso beverage in his hand. She was actually so in need of caffeine that when she closed her eyes, she could smell the wondrous aroma and taste the beautiful bitterness on her tongue.

For the sake of a cappuccino, Gabriella hurriedly made her way towards the baggage claim of Newark airport, where she knew Chris would be awaiting her arrival. But, after circling the luggage carousel three times, she still couldn't spot him. Pulling out her phone, she saw that she had no missed texts or calls, either.

This was unusual for Chris. Despite what popular opinion may believe, Chris was always very prompt. He was a full believer in the "five minutes early is on time" ideal. And to not be on time and not even call was a very foreign concept for Chris. Gabriella feared that something was wrong. Especially after she tried calling him and he didn't answer.

So while Gabriella waited for Chris to return her call, she picked up her luggage and grabbed her own Starbucks. Thankfully there was one in the airport. But now a half, as Gabriella stood with her beverage in her hand, her large duffle on her shoulder, and heavy suitcase by her side, she realized that Chris wasn't going to call her back any time soon. She was stranded at the airport.

Whipping out her phone at a speed comparable to Usain Bolt, she started to scroll through her most recent text messages, trying to figure out who would be most likely to answer at this ungodly hour. Since Gabriella knew that Abby had an 8 am class this morning, she landed on John Moore as her safest bet.

After two rings, he picked up, allowing Gabriella to release the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. "Hello?" he said groggily. It was clearly evident that Gabriella had woken him up, but she couldn't quite care less about that at this particular moment.

"John, I'm at the airport," Gabriella said anxiously. She hated Newark. She always felt like she was going to get mugged any second. Being at the airport was fine, but getting a taxi would require leaving the safety of the security guards, and she did not want to have to face that today. "Chris isn't here, he's not answering his phone, and I have no way of getting home. He was supposed to pick me up."

"Gab, I just woke up. It's going to take me a long time to get there," he explained. She could hear shuffling in the background, and she assumed it was just him getting dressed.

Biting her lip nervously, she asked "What if I take the train into the city? Could you pick me up at Penn Station?"

"You're lucky I love you Gabriella Amelia Kreider," John replied with a slight laugh. She could picture his little half smirk through the phone.

"I know I am. You're the best, John," she smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don't know." With that, the two hung up the phone to begin their journeys. Having found a means of transportation home, now Gabriella only had to struggle with all of her baggage.

***

A half hour later, the train pulled into Penn Station. Reaching up on her tip-toes, Gabriella desperately tried to grab her luggage from the overhead bin, which was too her for her to reach easily. She could feel people staring at her, but of course no one would try and help her.

When she finally got hold of the handle of her suitcase, she had to stop herself from letting out a signal of success. She quickly retrieved it and put it by her side. Just as she started to slide her duffle out of the bin, another passenger rushed by her, hitting Gabriella in the side in the process. The sudden jerk caused her to accidentally pull the duffle too quickly, causing it to fall.

Gabriella's eyes went wide as the duffle, which held two pairs of figure skates and extra blades, came straight for her face. She desperately tried to push it away from her, but she failed miserably. It hit her right in the nose.

Under her breath, she let out a few curse words. She tried not to let the pain get to her as she quickly grabbed her bags and exited the train, nearly sprinting to the main concourse as she felt blood gushing down her face.

Upon remembering that she had a small hand towel in her bag, she quickly started riffling through it. Small drops of blood started puddling next to her. Finally, she found the cream colored towel, and started to hold it up to her sensitive nose.

John spotted Gabriella crouched over her bags, and began to casually make his way over to her. When she stood up, however, she has a small towel held to her face. Being a hockey player, John knew that could only mean one thing, blood. Increasing his pace to a jog, he quickly closed the gap between them.

"Gab, are you okay? What the hell happened?" he asked, the concern evident in his baby blue eyes. He immediately took the bloody towel from her hand so that he could attempt to stop the bleeding himself.

Gabriella winced from the slight pain. Although it hurt, she could tell it wasn't broken, which made the situation slightly more positive. "My bag fell on my face," she mumbled, knowing he would laugh from the explanation.

John began to boom with lighter, causing much of Penn Station to take a not so casual glance in their direction, causing Gabriella to turn a deep shade of crimson.

"It's not funny!" she insisted, smacking him in the arm.

"You're right, you're right," he chuckled, throwing his hands up in front of himself. Clearing his throat, he added, "This is serious. Should we go to the hospital? You're bag may be suffering a serious injury right now."

"Oh ha ha," Gabriella replied. "Well aren't you just hilarious? You should quit hockey and just become a stand up comedian," she stated in a matter-of-fact manner.

Taking both of her bags, John quickly led them out of the train station, leaving Gabriella to take care of her nose on her own. Luckily for her, it was only a short walk to John's midtown apartment.

"Welcome to la casa de Moore," John smiled as they came to his apartment. Upon opening the door, Gabriella was immediately hit with the smell of cheap cologne.

"Don't tell me that's Axe," she coughed, shoving her nose, which had finally stopped bleeding, into her elbow.

"What would you do if I said yes?" John asked hesitantly.

"Ugh that's so gross! I'm so buying you new cologne next time I go shopping," Gabriella whined as she stormed into the apartment. From the multiple video game systems to the nearly empty kitchen, you could immediately tell that this was a bachelor pad. "And I might need to do some redecorating, too," she giggled.

John rolled his eyes at her. Gabriella was always one to speak her mind, and he didn't expect anything less than that when bringing her to his place. "The bathroom is the first door on the left. Go get the blood off your face," he laughed.

Entering the bathroom, she grabbed one of the hand towels, dampened it in the sink, and immediately went to work scrubbing off the dried blood. When she finally did so, she carefully examined her face in the mirror. Her nose was already turning a deep shade of purple, and the inner corners of her eyes were both a pale shade of green. She was going to have a hell of a time explaining this to everyone.

"Make fun of my face and I'll hurt you," she muttered as she stomped her way back into the living room. She plopped herself down on the couch, on the opposite side from where John was seated.

"It's not even that bad," John replied as he examined her face. Gabriella have him a cross glance. "Okay, it's pretty bad," he admitted.

"And to think, this wouldn't have happened of Chris had come to pick me up like he was supposed to," she complained, throwing her head back in agony. "Do you know why he has dropped off the face of the earth today?"

"Now that you mention it, I think he has a stomach virus."

Gabriella wasn't the least but surprised that Chris got sick the moment she needed him. It was just the way the cookie always crumbled for her. She was always there for him, but he could never be there for her.

John turned on the tv to fill the comfortable silence between them. A silence that was only broken up when Gabriella's phone went off, signifying that she had a text message. She expected it to be from Chris, apologizing for not picking her up; however, it was from Carl.

Seeing his name pop up on her screen made Gabriella inexplicably nervous. Her heart beat fast, her palms clammy, as she unlocked her phone. Thankfully John was too wrapped up in the episode of Criminal Minds that was currently playing to even notice that her phone had gone off.

Dinner tonight at 7:00?

Her heart dropped at the text. She didn't know what to expect from the text, but she had hoped that it would only be a simple text to welcome her home. Or even better, one saying that he was completely out of his mind the other day. But, of course, it couldn't be either of those things.

Gabriella sat there, chewing her bottom lip softly as she pondered how she would respond to him.

John looked over and noticed that she had gone slightly pale, and looked nervous. "What's up buttercup?" he asked, truly concerned. She was fine a couple of minutes ago.

"Nothing," Gabriella stated with a weak, unconvincing smile, hoping to end this conversation before it started.

"I refuse to buy the bullshit, Gab. Spill the beans before I force it out of you," John demanded, causing the smile to fall right off of her face.

Gabriella stared at him blankly for a moment, not sure how to respond. She couldn't tell him about Carl, but Gabriella obviously wasn't the best liar, either. "Well, there's this guy," she started, causing John to let out a large groan.

"I don't want to hear about your boy problems!"

"It's too late. Ask and it shall be received," she smirked. John gave her the death stare, only causing Gabriella to feel more smug. "He likes me, but I don't like him. Well, I like him as a... Friend." Gabriella had to be careful, for she was trending thin ice even talking about the situation. "He asked me out, and I flat out rejected him. But then I started to feel bad about it because I hurt his feelings, so I promised him he could have one date to show me why I should give him a chance. Now he wants to cash in on that one date, but I don't want to go. What should I do?" She felt ridiculous for going to John with this problem, but beggars can't be choosers.

John actually carefully considered the situation at hand. He truly cared for Gabriella, but as the fun brother who didn't have a stick up his ass all the time. "You made a promise to him. You can't back out of it. It's better to get it over and out of the way now rather than procrastinate."

Gabriella didn't really like that answer, and her body language clearly portrayed that. The last thing she wanted to do tonight was hold off Carl's advances. But John had a good point.

"I really kind of hate you John," she replied with an aggravated tone.

John threw his feet up on the coffee table while simultaneously putting his hands behind his head before smugly replying, "You wish you could hate me."